


Insatiable

by Vixx2pointOh



Series: The Unwritten [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Episode: s03e21 Al Sah-Him, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Face Slapping, Office Sex, Oral Sex, POV Third Person, Protective Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixx2pointOh/pseuds/Vixx2pointOh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insatiable (adjective) to have an unquenchable desire</p>
<p>He wasn't the same man that she’d given herself to in Nanda Parbat, but had he come back to her...if only for a moment?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place from Nyssa’s capture in Starling City, Episode 3.21 “Al Sah-Him” and the scene that happens after this.
> 
> I'm not American, sometimes my British English sneaks in, thanks for understanding.

 

“We’ll ready the plane to leave immediately” Sarab foreshadowed as he and Oliver strode together draped in their league colours.

“I will meet you there in one hour” Oliver responded, his face a practiced void of emotion.

“What would keep you –“ Sarab started to reply.

“Do not presume to instruct me on what to do” the growl in Oliver’s voice was gruff and peppered with agitation “they will not come for her again tonight, take her to a safe house. I will meet you at the plane in one hour. Is that clear?” he stoically challenged

* * *

 

  
As the four of them stood around the make shift lair in Palmer Tech, their faces revealed the devastation of what they had witnessed first hand, and just how much Oliver was lost to them.

“I’ll ask it, to ask it” Felicity spoke, her voice wavering through the emotion “there’s no way of getting him back?” her rogue lips pursed

“He’s gone Felicity” Diggle lamented “No one wants to believe that less than me, but he’s gone” he lent down against the treaded steel table, his fingers flexed atop it.

“There’s only one thing left of him now” he concluded, standing upright

“And what’s that?” Laurel spoke

Diggle look up, his hand clenched into a fist, a black balled up cloth in the middle “us” he resounded

“Gone, but never forgotten” Thea breathed her arms crossed around her, not as a sign of defiance but as one of comfort.

“Are you coming?” Diggle asked placing his hand gently on Felicity’s shoulder, it wasn’t hard to see how this had affected her. They hadn’t spoken about it, but it he was fairly sure about what had gone on between Oliver and her in Nanda Parbat – considering the bed was unmade when she called them in. He was a smart man, he read it all over her face.

A barely there smile peeked on her face as she leant into his hand “No, I’m going to stick here, I’ve got some things to finish up” she replied, typing nonsensical instructions on the computer – truth was she just didn’t want to go home, nowhere felt like home anymore, she felt lost – and even with the others here, she felt alone.

Once they had left she removed her glasses and squeezed her eyes shut as the tears formed in the corner of her eyes and started a trail down her flushed cheeks.

“Oliver, what happened to you?” she breathed barely audible between tears.

From the limited things Oliver had told her about his time on – and off – the island, she had known it had been brutal to him. It had only been months since she had left him with on the fire lit pathway out of Nanda Parbat, a tender kiss being their unspoken goodbye. Yet she barely recognised the man that stood before her at the warehouse that night.

She heaved a heavy sigh as her fingers traced an outline on the desk in front of her. She closed her eyes tightly as she had done many nights prior, fighting to hold onto the memory of him that she had, her finger trying to remember the trace of his chest, her minds eye delicately recreating the movement of his body against her. The moment he’d lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. The way her fingers had skated across the groves of his chest as she straddled him. The way his eyes looked at her when she removed her bra.

Her breath slowed as she searched for the scent of him, forever stained in her memory. Her lips parted trying desperately to recreate how his lips felt on them, she could almost taste him. Her body pined for the feeling of him entering her as he had that night together – gentle but powerful.

How she would give anything to have him breathing in her ear again.

The power went off without a warning and instantly a hand was over her mouth, another wrapped around her waist, pinning her hands down to her side. A heavy weight pushing her against the desk she’d been standing at moments before.

“Don’t fight, don’t scream” a male voice whispered in a docile tone into her ear

Familiar but different.

The grip loosened, the presence moved back.

She spun around taking a pen with her as a pretty lousy makeshift weapon. It fell to the floor when she recognised the face – illuminated only by the high risen moon and the cast off lights from the surrounding buildings.

“Oliver?!” she gasped

She didn’t have control over her hand for what it did next as it drew back and landed squarely across his cheek with a force that stung her hand and send a loud ‘clap’ echoing through the darkened room.

He didn’t flinch.

She had control the second time she moved to slap him, but his hand caught her by the wrist before she could make contact.

I felt like hours passed as she stood there, her hand raised but caught in his grip, her pulse quickened and her chest heaving with drawn breaths. He just stood there – expressionless.

Finally he released her hand and took a step back.

“I don’t have much time, say what you need to say” he almost instructed

“Where are you Oliver? Where have you gone?” her lips quivered as she took a step forward, closing the gap he had put between them. “Where are you Oliver?” she repeated, her voice raised

“Where are you?” a third time, her fists beating down on his chest

“Where are you, Ol...liv...er” her voice cracked as she fell against him, any control she had over her tears relinquished.

Finally he spoke “I don’t expect you to understand”

She look up from her place against him, his voice was calm but she detected a subtle hint of emotion. She noticed then that he hadn’t embraced her as he had many times before. Was he that lost to her?

“Keep Thea away from this” his voice was low and flat

She stepped back from him, composing herself.

“You really think I have any control over what anyone with the last name Queen does, present company definitely included” she retorted, her arms gesturing more wildly then she intended them to.

“Hold on, I’ll just count all the times someone with Queen for a last name has listened to what I’ve had to say, hmm, tell Oliver who Thea’s father is, nope Moira didn’t listen, don’t team up with Malcolm Merlyn” she paused staring into his steeled over eyes “Nope, definitely didn’t listen. Don’t fight Ra’s, don’t join the league, don’t date the Huntress. Nope, nope, nope” she spat, her voice much louder than she anticipated, but she was mad and he should know it.

“And finally I told Thea to stay away from this life, that you” she paused, pushing her finger into his arm “you wouldn’t want this for her, but surprise, she didn’t listen. Tell me Oliver, can I still call you that? What do you want from me?”

“Damnit Felicity, I need you to keep her away from this” his voice cracked, she had reached under his skin.

She didn’t give him any ground “she’s trying to understand the person her big brother has become, and frankly, after tonight. So I am”

She could tell he was frustrated.

“I’m just doing what needs to be done” he responded, his voice raised but not quiet shouting.

“I’m just deciding where to kick you first” she quipped her voice raising to match his.

“Why must you be so stub-“ he started, stopping himself before he finished.

“Stubborn Oliver? We’re you going to say stubborn?” she stepped forward, her body almost pushed ridged against his “because that is a little rich coming from you” she was mad now, she knew it, she could hear herself, but she couldn’t stop herself “you are the most stubborn, obstinate, pigs headed, headstrong person I know” she had subconsciously raised to her tippy toes, her mouth on even playing field with his.

And then he dropped his defences and his lips fell against hers, his arms pulled her shoulders towards him and his body softened against hers.

For a moment she allowed herself to melt into him, but for only a moment before she jerked back, pushing him away and for the second time that night slapping him hard across the face.

Her eyes widened as her mind and body played a game of tug of war. She tugged him back towards her, her lips pounding onto his in a raw moment of heated requiring.

The kiss was rough, hasty – animalistic.

An insatiable desire cast itself over them as thick as the darkness that encased their bodies.

His hands grabbed at her firmly caressing the dip of her spin along the waist band of her black jeans.

Her body writhed against his, wanting him, needing him but hating the idea of either.

Together they slammed against the treaded steel bench sending an undoubtedly expensive microscope crashing to the floor, the sound of which did nothing to stifle the insatiable wanting they had for each other.

He lifted her onto the cold steel, pushing away with a single swoop anything left on it. Her jeans were gone – a pile on the floor before she realised they were missing, he pushed her pink top up past the bottom of her breasts as his thumbs sunk a line up her thighs. His mouth grazed along behind painting ravenous kisses as it moved up to her bellybutton.

She felt his moist breath on her as he breathed with a hungering pace. She rubbed her hand coarsely over his almost shaven head, her nails scratching into him as he drew breath in against the material of her black underwear. He kissed her there like she had never felt before, his chin digging deep between her legs, his warm breath making her swell like she was atop a stormy ocean.

His teeth nipped at her hips clasping on to the elastic of her knickers, he pulled them down an inch or two before his hand finished the job, threading them down her legs and over the heels she was still wearing.

He lifted one of her legs up, perching it on his broad shoulder as he stood over her, his feet planted on the floor, his hand bracing himself on the table. The heel of her shoe dug into the leather on his back as he lent in kissing her with hastened wanting on her exposed nether region, his tongue darting between her lips, pushing his way deeper inside her, his tongue lapping up all she offered.

Her knuckles went white as she gripped the sides of the desk, her body arched as she felt the sudden rush of her own body succumbing to the insatiable delight he’d awakened in her. Her legs gripped tighter around him as he moved his fingers inside her in tandem with his mouth.

Her body rose slightly off the table, his hands pushed her back down, she gasped at the intensity of his grip on her. His fingers quickened inside her, his tongue dancing around her, entering, pulling back, teasing, testing. She felt her insides contract as he felt her warm release. He lay his head against her, watching as her stomach rose and fell, the moonlight playing with her dewy skin.

His hand touched her, gently now, drawing out every second of pleasure for her, lost in the moment of her – until he realised what he had done.

With a jolt he pulled her up and towards him, her body now perched on the edge of the desk, her hands palms down behind her gripping the bench, the tread of which had indented itself on her.

She met his eyes, his breath heavy in the air. Beads of sweat lined his furrowed brow. As he reached a hand around her head and cupped it strongly in his, his fingers entwined in her soft golden hair.

“I’m sorry, I have to go” he spoke into her ear, so close his lips danced the words across her skin.

He backed away, his eyes still locked on her as she perched there panting and flushed.

“Oliver, wait” she pleaded grasping at his arm.

He removed it with care, holding her hand for moments longer than he needed to. He knew he’d succumb to a moment that could put her in grave danger, he could risk her no longer, he was not built to lose her.

“Please get Thea away from this, tell her about Roy” he replied, almost pleading

She nodded, staring at the man she loved but she wasn’t sure she knew anymore.

And then he was gone – as quickly as he’d come. The lights and the computers sprung back to life, leaving Felicity alone, perched on the edge of the table, wondering if any of that was real.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a following scene where Felicity tells Thea about Roy.
> 
> Thanks for reading, liking and /or commenting, much appreciated


End file.
